


For Better or For Worse

by Sabulana



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Gobblepot Week 2018, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mostly Canon Compliant, Slow Burn, Some Fluff, Soulmates, season one, some canon divergence though
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-17 20:54:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13667085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sabulana/pseuds/Sabulana
Summary: For Gobblepot Week 2018.Prompt: SoulmateJim doesn't expect to meet his soulmate. He goes from one dangerous job to another, so it'll be a miracle if he lives long enough to meet them. He's content to live a life without colour.Oswald has been waiting his whole life for his soulmate, someone who will stand by his side no matter what and fill his world with colour.Neither of them get what they're expecting, but if they can learn to work together, then maybe things will work out for the best.A retelling of Season 1, where Jim and Oswald discover they are soulmates at the worst possible time.





	For Better or For Worse

**Author's Note:**

> I've been sort of working on this on and off since last... August? September, maybe? I forget. I got the idea when 'soulmates' was used as a prompt in the last gobbepot week, but I came to the fandom too late to join that event. I always intended to write this though, and now I've found the time. 
> 
> There's some dialogue from the show in this, modified a little to suit the situation between Oswald and Jim. I intend to skim over much of the events though, just focusing on the relationships between the characters, and how the reality of soulmates affecting a person's ability to see in colour changes things in society.
> 
> Many thanks to [thekeyholder](http://archiveofourown.org/users/thekeyholder) for betaing this! Much love, my dear! <3

Once, when he was a young boy, Jim Gordon had thought meeting his soulmate was everything he ever wanted. He’d shared the belief held by many that he should wait for them, save himself for their first encounter. But that was before he grew out of childish ideals.

Before he nearly died in a car accident along with his father. 

His mother was never the same after that. She’d lost her soulmate, after all.

Jim wasn’t either. He grew apart from his mother and his brother, and by the time he joined the military, they felt more like people he was obligated to spend time with than family.

He’d stopped searching for his soulmate as well, dated other people with similar mindsets. Not everyone believed in saving themselves for their soulmate. Despite the high population of the planet, meeting your soulmate at some point was almost a certainty. 

But Jim didn’t care, and the more time he spent in the army, facing dangerous situations, the more certain he became that he probably wouldn’t live long enough to meet them anyway. 

Even after he left the army and joined the GCPD, with no soulmate in sight, Jim doubted he would meet them. He was assigned to the precinct with the worst reputation for injuries and fatalities on the force, working a job that regularly involved getting into fights and shootouts with violent criminals. 

It really didn’t look good, even before Fish Mooney had him strung upside down, wanting him dead, or before Harvey drove him out to the pier and told him to put a bullet in Cobblepot or both of them would be killed, and he had long resigned himself to a life without a single flash of colour.

So when he hauled Oswald out of the back of Harvey’s car, it took him a moment to understand what he was seeing. The shirt was white, but the blood on his collar definitely wasn't the dark grey, almost black, that he was expecting, and while the skin above it was pale with fear, it wasn't grey either. But it was Oswald’s eyes, when they opened, that truly took Jim’s breath away. 

“Gordon! Hey, Gordon,” Harvey’s voice startled him back to the present.

Jim turned back to Harvey, struggling to regain control of himself. He accepted the gun being handed to him, covered in a brightly colored cloth, remembering what he was here for.

He had to kill his soulmate.

It didn't matter that no one else knew, could never have known that they were soulmates. It was the task Jim had been given.

Roughly, he spun Oswald and made him walk, all the while thinking frantically. There had to be a way out of this. He hadn't wanted to kill Oswald, even before the revelation of colour. It wasn't right, even if he was a mob snitch. 

Oswald turned around, backing up to the edge of the pier. There was honest terror in his eyes as he babbled, begged for his life. 

“I'll be your slave for life!”

Jim tried to block him out. He made it so hard to think. “Shut up!”

Oswald turned, shaking. He looked down into the murky waters and Jim put his gun to the back of his head.

“For god's sake, have mercy,” pleaded Oswald. “I'm your soulmate.” He paused, just briefly, and lowered his head as he confessed, “I've been waiting for you my whole life.” His voice cracked, and he sounded so small and broken. 

But there was no time for comfort, no opportunity to reassure him.

“Don't ever come back to Gotham!”

Jim pushed Oswald into the cold river, simultaneously firing his gun to the side, using his body to shield his actions from Harvey. He spared a moment to see Oswald sink below the surface and start swimming, and then turned back to Harvey.

He didn't speak for the entire journey back to Barbara’s. 

* * *

The soulmate phenomenon was a strange thing, subject to many studies over the years, but still not fully understood. Some people had one soulmate who allowed them to see the full spectrum of colour and others had two or more, filling in different colours on the spectrum until the world was in full technicolour.

There were so many variations on soulmates, and it was nearly impossible not to meet them if you lived long enough.

Oswald had been waiting his whole life for his soulmate to appear. He persevered through bullying, humiliation, and beatings with the firm belief that one day, he would find them and then everything would be alright.

Somehow, it would all be alright.

Because he wouldn't be alone anymore. He would have a friend. Maybe more than a friend, Oswald thought sometimes, making him breathless with anticipation. Not all soulmate relationships were romantic in nature. Many were platonic too. Oswald didn't care if his soulmate was platonic or romantic. Things would work themselves out. The important thing was that Oswald wouldn't be alone anymore.

But then he was caught in his attempt to bring Fish Mooney down, beaten and sentenced to death. His only hope was that Jim Gordon would show mercy.

He had met the detective only briefly, but it was enough to convince him that the detective was a good man, unlike the rest of his colleagues, and perhaps a good man wouldn't be convinced to murder a snitch.

As Jim hauled him roughly out of the car, Oswald wondered briefly if he had been wrong. He squeezed his eyes shut in pain and fear, not knowing that later he would wish he hadn't. 

The first colour he saw was the blue of Jim’s eyes. 

_ ‘Not grey,’ _ he thought, momentarily stunned. 

Oswald was so shocked that the full meaning of what he saw didn't hit him until they were more than halfway down the pier. 

Detective James Gordon was his soulmate.

Oswald had finally found the one person he was meant for, and he was marching him down to the river to shoot him.

He turned around, meeting Jim’s eyes again as he pleaded for his life.

“Please, Mr Gordon, let me live. I’ll do whatever you say, I'll be your slave for life!”

When that had no visible reaction, not even a flicker of interest, Oswald switched tracks. It didn't help that Jim kept turning back, glancing at Bullock. But maybe that was a good sign? Maybe without Bullock being close enough to hear, Oswald could appeal to Jim, persuade him somehow to spare him.

“There's a war coming, a-a terrible war. Falcone is losing his grip and his rivals are hungry. There will be chaos, rivers of blood in the streets! I know it! I-I can see it coming it. I'm clever that way and I can help you. I can be your spy —”

“Shut up! Turn around.”

Jim turned Oswald around.

“For god's sake, have mercy. I'm your soulmate,” Oswald begged. “I've been waiting for you my whole life.” He hated the way his voice cracked, but it felt like his heart was breaking. He didn't even know James yet, but the thought of being rejected by his soulmate was devastating.

“Don't ever come back to Gotham.”

Oswald had a brief moment of confusion before he hit the icy water, a gunshot echoing in his ears.

He surfaced later, downriver and out of sight of anyone who would care if he lived or died. He swam to the shore and collapsed on the ground, an elated grin on his face. 

He found his soulmate! He was no longer alone! All he had to do was get back to Gotham and reunite with him. 

James had told him not to come back, but surely he didn't mean it. They were soulmates, after all. 

* * *

Jim couldn't take his eyes off the city around him. He had never imagined so many colours. Even the shades of grey seemed to have tints of other colours. 

“You okay, Jim?” Harvey asked. He brought the car to a halt in front of Barbara’s apartment building. “I know this wasn't what you signed up for. Hell, I'd have shot him myself, but Falcone gave the order for you to do it.”

Jim looked at him, trying to keep his expression under control. “It wasn't right,” he said. 

“Look, the guy was a scumbag, and probably no one is going to miss him. Trust me, he was nobody,” Harvey said.

“What about his family? His soulmate?” Jim asked. “You don't think they'll miss him?”

Harvey scoffed. “Cobblepot didn't have a soulmate. They joke — used to joke —  that even they wouldn't be able to stand him either if he did find them.”

Jim looked away. “If you say so,” he mumbled. “See you tomorrow.” He got out of the car, slamming the door behind him. 

Jim tried hard not to stare at all the colours suddenly visible to him. He couldn't let anyone know. If they found out that he could see a full spectrum of colour, then they'd find out that Oswald was his soulmate and that he hadn't killed him after all. He couldn't quite help it, though, tracing his fingers over deep brown wooden panels and following subtle changes in the shades, then marvelling at the wallpaper in the hallway outside Barbara’s penthouse before he stumbled through the door.

Barbara’s apartment was filled with colour too. Barbara herself, beautiful even in greyscale, was that much more stunning now that Jim could truly see every shade of her for the first time, Jim felt guilty for not being her soulmate.

But Barbara wasn't looking for her soulmate either. It was something they had bonded over when they first met. Her view was that she would meet her soulmate whenever it was time, and things would fall into place. There was no point in not letting herself have fun and fall in love in the meantime.

Barbara greeted him at the door with a hug, expressing worry and concern. Jim did his best to reassure her that he was fine, there was nothing to worry about. He had a few scrapes and bruises from his time with Mooney’s thugs, but nothing that wouldn't heal. 

Jim didn't want to sleep that night, afraid that his attempt to spare Oswald would go wrong and his vision would fade to grey once more. If Oswald did drown, or was caught, or some other fate befell him, there would be nothing Jim could do, but he still feared being asleep if it happened, as if it would somehow be better if he was awake. 

Despite his best efforts, Jim fell into a restless sleep in the early hours of the morning, with the lights still on. He awoke with a start when his alarm went off a few hours later.

“Are you okay?” Barbara asked.

“Yeah, fine,” Jim mumbled. He stumbled into the bathroom, locking the door behind him. He had hardly dared to believe his eyes when he saw everything was still in colour, and couldn't contain his sigh of relief. 

Oswald was still alive. He had no idea if he was still in danger, if he was heading back to Gotham or going off to make a new life for himself. Jim hoped he was going to have a fresh start somewhere else.

He could handle being separated from his soulmate as long as he knew Oswald was safe. Perhaps Oswald would get in touch when he was settled somewhere else and they could meet. It would be risky, but Jim knew that it would be worth it in the end. They were soulmates, after all. 

* * *

In one instant at the docks, Jim’s whole world had changed and yet, at the same time, nothing was different. There were still murders to solve and criminals to catch. Jim threw all his focus into his work, trying desperately not to think about Oswald.

Thankfully, there was plenty to keep him occupied. A murdered veteran in an alley led to chasing down child snatchers who were kidnapping homeless children off the streets. That in turn led to him being introduced to a young girl who claimed to have witnessed the Wayne murders and seen the real killer. While Selina wasn't the most reliable of people, the stolen wallet Jim found discarded in the sewer right where she said it would be, led him to believe her.

And then, because things couldn't just stay simple, Selina escaped his custody and Jim couldn't dedicate any time to finding her, because the latest killer to grab the headlines was cuffing people to weather balloons and was targeting corrupt people in power. That meant a lot of pressure to find the guy, while the regular citizens of Gotham cheered him on.

The real icing on the cake though, was Montoya and Allen investigating Oswald’s disappearance. They didn't believe Jim when he said he hadn't kill him, because why would they? They only had another criminal’s word to go on. He worked in a precinct full of crooked cops. Why wouldn’t they think he was one of them?

Harvey was no real help either. His attempts at reassurance all ran along the lines of how no one really missed Oswald or cared that he was gone, how he was worthless, a rat, how he was probably better off at the bottom of the river and the city was better off without him, and anyway, Montoya and Allen had no real proof.

Jim just bit his tongue and turned away. He couldn't tell Harvey to stop talking like that, couldn't explain to him that it made him angry to hear his soulmate talked about in such a way. He'd know then, that Jim hadn't killed him after all, and then who knew what would happen? If word got out — whether Harvey intentionally told someone or it just slipped out — then there would be repercussions. Falcone wasn't a man to cross. Likely Jim and Harvey would end up dead, maybe Barbara, too, because it wouldn't matter that Jim hadn't told her anything, couldn't tell her anything, not after the way she had gone to the papers with the information about the child snatchers. Jim had clammed up after that, only giving her the briefest of details about his cases. 

She had noticed something was up with Jim, had noticed that he wasn't sleeping, was more stressed. Jim put her off as much as he could, but he knew Barbara would only accept his excuses for so long. Their relationship was in danger of becoming strained lately, and Jim hoped it would pass soon. Perhaps things would improve once they were married, because Jim still intended to go through with that. He still loved Barbara. He wouldn't leave her just because he knew who his soulmate was. He hadn't even had time to get to know Oswald. There was every chance that their bond would remain platonic, whenever they finally were able to reconnect.

Then again, he could marry Barbara and then find Oswald again and fall in love with him. Would it be better to wait and see how things panned out with Oswald first? But if he asked to postpone the wedding, Barbara would ask why and Jim would have to find a plausible reason that didn't reveal the identity of his soulmate or hurt her. 

It seemed that every possibility Jim considered would hurt Barbara in some way, though, so after yet another sleepless night, he decided to simply wait a little longer. There was no sense rushing into a decision like this.

* * *

Oswald had never had any intention of leaving Gotham, if Jim had spared his life as he had hoped. It was his home. There was nowhere else in the world Oswald could imagine living. Stepping off the bus into the familiar, crime-ridden streets, watching pickpockets and corrupt cops accepting ‘protection’ money, ignoring the purse-snatcher across the street, Oswald felt something settle in his chest. There really was no place like home.

Even if Oswald hadn’t found his soulmate here, nothing could have kept him away.

Part of Oswald, the part that had cried out for a soulmate all his life, wanted nothing more than to return to Jim immediately. 

Yet he recognised the foolishness in giving in to that urge. Before the fateful events at the pier, Oswald had made a promise to Falcone that he would work his way into Maroni’s gang to snitch on him. If Falcone found out that he was alive and hadn't done as he'd promised, then it wouldn't matter that Jim had spared him at the pier. 

There was also the small matter of Oswald’s lack of suitable clothing at the moment. He could hardly call on Jim while looking like some scruffy vagabond. No, that wouldn't do at all. 

So Oswald waited, and made his way back to the city, and sought a way into Maroni’s organisation. If he had to do a few regrettable things in the course of his plans, things that a good man like Jim would surely frown upon, then so be it. Surely Jim would understand in time. 

Not that Jim had to know. 

No, maybe it was best that Jim not find out about the boys who had given him a ride (though he hadn’t planned their fate. He’d just lost his head in the face of their taunts. Still, he’d temporarily acquired a car and a change of clothes out of the situation. He'd ditched the car later, but kept the clothes for now), or the thug who had bumped into him and had intended to hand him over to Fish for a reward (but again, that had turned out well enough for him. The thug had had money, which Oswald was sorely lacking at the moment). No, Jim didn’t need to know about those. 

So Oswald focussed on finding a job at  _ Bamonte' _ s, where he would have the best chance at meeting Maroni. Only when he had established a foothold, when he had managed to get a decent change of clothes, when he felt he had managed to get his feet under him and he was ready to work his way up did he finally decide to call on Jim Gordon.

* * *

The day they caught the Balloonman didn’t feel like a victory. Yes, they had caught the killer, and Harvey had been more than prepared for a few celebratory drinks with a few others in the department, but Jim turned down their invitation. Instead, he returned to Barbara’s apartment, weary and sore from falling on to the top of a van. 

“You’re okay,” Barbara greeted, pulling him into an embrace and holding him close for a moment. It was more comfort than Jim could have ever truly expressed to her. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I fell, is all. I’m fine,” Jim replied, sinking back down once she’s let go. 

“What’s wrong? I want you to know you can tell me anything,” Barbara said, looking up at him with earnest blue eyes, and for a brief moment, Jim considered telling her that he’d met his soulmate, that he could see every shade of her eyes, and that he was being 

But instead, he told her about the Balloonman, about how he had said that his next intended target didn’t really matter, because there were so many he could have chosen from. Everyone in a position of power was guilty.

“But that’s not true,” Barbara said immediately.

“It’s how he feels. It’s how they all feel. Everyone,” Jim said. “That’s why the city embraced him. But if people take the law into their own hands, then there is no law, and we’re lost.” He paused for a moment, gaze sliding to the side. “There are cops who do it. The same thing he did.”

“But you never would,” Barbara replied.

“Do you think I could?” Jim asked.

Barbara sighed and shook her head slightly. “No,” she said, and he could tell she meant it. She believed he was a good man. The realisation made him feel lighter, at least a little. Here was someone who didn’t expect the worst of him, who wasn’t trying to bring him down. 

“I know you, Jim Gordon, and I love you,” she said, smiling. “And now I’m going to get you a drink.”

A drink would be more than welcome at this point, but there was  was an unexpected knock at the door. Jim let his head hang down in exhaustion as Barbara answered it. The concern in her voice when she called his name had him on alert almost immediately.

“Hello, James,” Oswald greeted, smiling widely. “Old friend.”

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback would be much appreciated, and concrit is welcome. <3
> 
> Fidn me on tumblr as [emmageddon](http://emmageddon.tumblr.com/) if you like.
> 
> Part 2 is in progress, and I hope to have it finished soon.


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